


Legacy

by notsomajestic



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hatchlings, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 10:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsomajestic/pseuds/notsomajestic
Summary: Alone and with a clear mind, Megatron seeks out his legacy.





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Short Megatron-centric drabbles written to complement my Bayverse!Megatron roleplay. Set post-TLK.

With Quintessa seemingly gone and his freed Decepticons either dead or otherwise incapacitated, Megatron was alone once more. He had no intention of remaining this way, however.

If all went as planned, that is.

Upon returning to the primitive planet that he had seen far too much of as of late, he began to make his way to the place he, Starscream and Soundwave had made a makeshift base. Although it was in the middle of the vast savannah, he knew his way; he had spent enough time here and spent more than enough time searching for resources in the surrounding area to have every part of the landscape burned into his memory.

Luckily for him, too, that this place seemed to have been spared when the anchors took hold.

The primitive camp he had left behind was still there. More weather-beaten then he had left it, but otherwise intact. It was also entirely devoid of life that _mattered_ , he noted as his spark sank. 

_Surely at least one must have survived?_

He let out a trill followed by a series of clicks and waited for a response.

None came.

With a heavy ex-vent, the warlord sat down on the thrown-together pile of refuse that had once passed for a seat and began to think. If his offspring were anything like himself or Starscream, they would be resourceful and wouldn’t accept their own death as an acceptable outcome — no, they would fight against all odds to survive.

Focussed now, he attempted to find even the slightest glimmer of an energy signature. Anything too strong that could have passed as adult was filtered out, and those were few and far between now that humans were able to detect and hunt them.

There was promise a few hundred miles away.

* * *

 

Heavy pedes shook the ground as Megatron landed.

While he hadn’t seen anything on his way, this was the spot without a doubt. He could still feel the faint trace of young, fragile spark energy here and it pulled on his own spark. It may have been new, but it would seemingly never forget.

He repeated his call and waited once more.

A scuffling, like metal against rock, and his optics narrowed. They were hiding from him.

Dropping to his servos and knees, he shuffled his way over to a small opening in a rock face and peered inside. He grunted — nothing to be seen, but that didn’t mean nothing was there. With one arm supporting his weight against the rock face, he used his free hand to reach inside and pull out whatever was hiding.

A few bites and scratches from immature dentae and claws later, he dragged out a struggling mass of proto-metal with two pairs of large, red optics staring at him. They were smaller than he would have expected for their age.

The fear in their unstable EM fields was obvious to Megatron, and understandable too; the last time he had seen them he had looked very different, lighter in colour with an entirely different helm.

Despite their open fear of him, there was no doubt in Megatron’s mind that they were his. They had his rows of pointed dentae and the tell-tale nubs on their backs that would one day become the wings their carrier had.

He chirped at the pair still struggling within his careful grasp, a sound that might have _embarrassed_ him long ago. Spending so much time around his own hatchlings had long since eradicated any reservations he may have had.

They stilled, staring at him as though trying to work out who he was. Another chirp and a series of clicks, followed by a soft purr this time.

One responded with its own garbled chirp before the other copied,  both of them seeming to have realised that those were, indeed, their sire’s calls — no matter how different he looked now.

Triumphant, the warlord brought them to his chest as he seated himself on the dirt. Both he and his surviving offspring would need to refuel soon, but for now he was content to reform his bond with them, soft purrs and trills filling the evening air as tiny claws took hold onto his armour and his spark swelled.


	2. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron returns to the junk yard to collect something of great importance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set approximately two years after the previous chapter.

His hatchlings were getting **big** – big enough that allowing them to latch onto his armour and be carried was growing both inconvenient and uncomfortable. Their once-tiny claws had begun to rend gouges into his plating and their weight pulled uncomfortably on his armour.

They would have to start walking more for themselves soon – that much he knew – but he was still protective over them. They were all that was left of his and his Second’s legacy, and he would allow no harm to befall them on this planet – even if that meant giving them _far_ too much leeway. The once weak bond between him and his offspring had begun to strengthen in past months and he would be damned if he let anything get in the way of that again.

Always on the move, the three of them rarely stopped for more than a single night. Doing so would give away their location and bring about unwanted attention. This place, though, was remote enough that Megatron felt comfortable to stay a few days.

It was out of the way, unassuming. No wonder the Autobots had taken refuge here — before he and his Decepticons had shown up, anyway.

He had seated himself upon a pile of rusted cars, watching the two hatchlings playing from afar. They would make fine warriors one day; a killer instinct was already showing itself in the way they wrestled with each other in the dust.

_Starscream would have been proud._

Not just proud — positively preening.

Megatron purred, as though his almost-mate would have been able to hear and respond with a _coo_ of his own.

The lifeless head by his side remained silent, of course.

That didn’t stop him from rubbing his clawed fingers over the top of the cold helm, however. It was a gesture he had frequently used to soothe the Seeker, one which he had begun using on their heirs too.

A longing for what _could have been_ took him for a moment, stabbing into his spark.

Cycling a deep intake in hopes of shaking that feeling of weakness, he lifted Starscream’s helm into his servo  and stared into lifeless optics – what was left of them, anyway. Whoever had bested his Second had clearly disfigured his face, gouging out his optics. A flare of anger at the sheer **audacity** of such a thing spread through his chest.

 _Oh_ , whoever did that would have a most painful death.

He growled low in his chest as his other shoulder twinged in a phantom urge to have the claws of his hand curled around the body of a car beneath him, tearing into it and crumpling the metal in his grasp. Given his current state, he had to settle for grinding his pointed teeth together, baring them in an ugly snarl.

It had only been recently – by his standards – that he had even become **aware** of Starscream’s demise. He had fallen at the hands of his once-Brother in Arms not long after, entirely unaware of the state of his Seeker. The more he thought about it, the more it angered him.

Had things gone differently, this planet and Cybertron would have been theirs. Their hatchlings would have been in greater numbers, thriving on a ready supply of energon. He was certain he would have ~~finally~~ bonded with his Second, too, just as they had planned before his own disappearance.

Optics offlined, he brought Starscream’s forehelm to meet his. This wasn’t quite right, not without the rest of the Seeker’s frame pressed to Megatron’s, but it was close enough.

It was all he had.

His optics flickered online once again, staring into the lifeless holes where matching twin lights once shone. Vocals near a whisper, he murmured a promise that he would find a way to have his almost-mate return to him. If he had been granted another chance at life himself,  it was far from impossible for Starscream to have the same.

He kept the helm in his servos as he made to stand before he strode over to his squabbling heirs.

It was time for them to know more of their carrier.


End file.
